it it, and throwing open the
window, proceeded deliberately to get out. I almost hoped he would
break his neck! But I conclude there was a ledge or balcony of some
sort to sustain him, and that he was accustomed to a nightly cigar in
that position. Here was a chance not to be lost! I bolted out of the
shower-bath; I popped the extinguisher on one candle, and blew the
other out at the same instant. I heard the smoker's exclamation of
astonishment, but heeded it not. I rushed through the door. I flew
along the dark passages, breathless and trembling; at last I reached
my own room, more by instinct, I believe, than any other faculty, and
having locked the door and struck a light, sat me down, in a state of
immense confusion and bewilderment, to think what I should do next.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Who was there to whom I could apply? Sir Guy, of course, was out of
the question. Then, in an affair of such delicacy, I could not consult
a _young_ man; besides, these boys, I fancy, are always for fighting,
right or wrong. A woman was no use, or I should have gone straight
back to Lady Scapegrace. I pondered matters over and over again. I
thought of every horror in the way of duelling I had ever heard of.

My own uncle was shot dead by a Frenchman when attached to the army of
occupation at Cambray. It was a romantic story, and I had often heard
the particulars from my godfather, General Grape, who officiated as
his second. My uncle was a handsome, chivalrous youth, deeply attached
to a countrywoman of his own, whose picture he wore constantly next
his heart. Such a man was not likely to become compromised with
another lady. It happened, however, that my uncle was quartered in the
vicinity of a chateau belonging to a retired general of the Grand
Army, who hated an Englishman as a matter of taste, and a British
officer as a matter of duty.

The French general had a charming daughter, and Rosalie, besides being
_belle comme le jour_, was likewise what her acquaintance called _tant
soit peu coquette_. So she made love to my uncle on every available
opportunity, and of course, because he didn't care for her two pins,
set her faithless heart upon him, as a woman will. To make things
simpler, she was herself engaged to a young marquis in the
neighbourhood. Well, my uncle, like a sensible man, did his best to
keep clear of the whole thing, but he could not avoid meeting Rosalie
occasionally in his walks, nor could he absolutely ref